


Fuckin' Perfect

by tensh_iie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Talk about Anxiety Attacks, and therapy, talk about depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 04:54:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14128515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tensh_iie/pseuds/tensh_iie
Summary: Derek and Stiles help one another to get better after everything that happened during the years. After being in therapy himself, Derek finds himself in the opposite side of things as he has to support Stiles in defeating his own demons.





	Fuckin' Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! While I'm still working on the next chapter for "Wonderwall" I stumbled upon this old piece. It's a story I wrote years ago with a friend of mine. And since it did fit my current situation and state of mind a little bit I decided to post it here for you guys.
> 
> Please be aware that this story deals with the topic of therapy for depression, anxiety attacks, panic attacks. If that triggers you, or you can not handle that, PLEASE do not read on. There are no panic attacks or similar detailed or anything, just... that the characters in this story go to therapy for this.
> 
> It's actually a sweet story! It's inspired by the song "Fuckin' Perfect" by P!nk
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think in the comments or via Kudo's :) Thank you!

_**... if you ever think you're nothing, you're fucking perfect to me!** _

 

 _The wind blew heavy on the outside, a storm rising and soon rain would drown the world in gray. It was 5pm in Los Angeles, California and the usual shining sun had disappeared._  
_Somewhere close by lay a small town named Beacon Hills._

_Stiles was born here. Oh excuse me…_

_His full name was Mieczyslaw Stilinski, but everyone called him Stiles. The young man was tall, whiskey colored eyes and dark brown hair. When he had been a teenager Stiles had looked gangly, as if his limbs were too big for his frame. By now he filled in that frame, arms and legs muscular and strong._

_Stiles wasn’t a normal, twenty-three year old man though. He was the emissary to the most powerful Werewolf Pack in all California. It all had started out back in High School when Stiles’ best friend Scott had been bitten by a rogue Alpha - turning all their lives up side down. Several years, many fights, losses and also gained friendships later the whole situation had quietened down a whole lot._

_Stiles went to college in New York, came back and… fell in love, but not with some woman, not with some hot, well tanned Californian beauty – well not a female one that is._

_From the first time since Stiles had laid eyes on Derek Hale, he had been head over heels for the werewolf. Their relationship had started out hard to say the least. But during the years their disdain for one another had formed into friendship and even morphed into affection. When Stiles had moved to New York for college, Derek had tagged along without thinking twice._

_Often Stiles would sit back and remembered that night where he and Scott had stumbled through the dark forrest of Beacon Hills, looking for the other half of a dead body when they had met Derek for the first time. The older man clad in dark jeans, leather jacked a scowl firm on his face. These days Derek smiled a lot more, laughed even. The dark and angry man from back then was replaced by a person who, yes, still had problems to voice his emotions sometimes, but generally was a lot more happier than back then._

_Reaching this point in life, Stiles knew, had taken Derek a whole lot of work. As soon as they had settled in New York Derek finally started therapy. Of course at first he wasn’t convinced that anyone could ever understand what he had been gone through, yet alone how he could explain all the happening in session without spilling his supernatural nature. But eventually he figured it out and often Stiles had to comfort his boyfriend after a particular hard day._

_The worst sessions were those in which he talked about the loss of his family. His parents deaths, his aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews. The loss of Laura. Everyone in the pack knew that Derek used to have a pretty close connection to his sister, Cora and Laura. Cora, whom was still alive but enjoyed her own life, away from all the troubles back in South America, was now in regular contact with her brother. But Laura… Derek’s older sister, was gone forever and nothing could bring her back. And even if Derek was on peaceful term with his uncle Peter, whom had killed said sister Laura in path of revenge and power-lust, Derek had never forgiven him that particular murder. Laura had left a deep empty spot on Derek’s soul and Stiles knew that no-one could ever fill it._

_But thanks to his hard work in therapy he learned to work through all these feelings, the endless sadness, the anger and hate. These days Derek’s moved a lot lighter through the work, more at ease as it seemed._

_These years on New York, away from the pack had fused Stiles together in a way they probably otherwise had never come together. Not only had their romantic relationship taken profits from the time away from the pack, no, they separately as people grew in different ways and directions. These years made the both of them inseparable, giving each other hope, strength and the will to master everything life would throw in their direction._

_Stiles and Derek were mates. A werewolf term that Stiles always thought was just a romantic myth, but turned out to be reality._

 

All these things have happened several years ago and by now both Stilinki-Hales, yes they had gotten married as they returned to Beacon Hills one year ago, were in a totally different position.

  
Derek took a deep breath and sat down at his writing desk. The storm had started and rain was drumming against the window. In front of him sat a empty sheet of paper, waiting to be filled with words. Normally, he would prefer to talk to someone up close and in person, but this time he thought it would be the best thing to write everything down. Reaching across the desk he grabbed a pen and slowly started writing.

>   
>  _Dear Stiles,_  
>  _my love, my angel... oh my beloved mate..._

Quickly Derek ripped the paper off of the block. “Too cheesy… and definitely too gay…” he mumbled to himself as he started all over again.

 

>   
>  _Dear Stiles._  
>  _Hello, my love, I'm sure you're wondering why I'm writing you a letter but – well you know how cheesy I can get._  
>  _We haven't seen each other in a while now and I can't say anything else than... I fucking miss you. I know it's the best to be separated for a while and you know that I totally accept your decision but still... I miss you._
> 
> _When I go to bed at night my bed feels so big and empty without you. I miss your warm body pressed against mine, your soft and warm lips nuzzled in the nape of my neck. I miss your presence... every single minute. Hell, I even miss your constant chattering. Nothing's the way it's supposed to be without you._
> 
> _I sound selfish, don't I? I know you miss me too. Ha, I even remember that you always used to say that you can't sleep without me next to you. God, I hope you're alright._
> 
> _How's the therapy going? Do they treat you well?_  
>  _I know you probably think that you deserve all the misery you're in, but believe me when I say... you don't._

  
Around three months ago Derek had discovered that his lover was struggling with a serious depression, anxiety attacks, even the panic attacks had come back. Stiles always had problems with these things, ever since his mother passed away when he was nine. Then, after the possession of the Nogitsune, things had gotten worse. And for a while it looked like Stiles was alright, but after moving back… Derek had started to get suspicious. His partner had blamed work, the stress but Derek knew there was something else.

So three months ago he finally put his foot down after Stiles had spend the fifth night in a row cowered in their bathroom, sweating and panicked until Derek had dragged him back to bed and slowly calmed him down.

The young FBI Agent went into therapy kicking and screaming, not literally thankfully. But for Stiles all of this wasn’t necessary and it took quiet some work from Derek, as well as his best friend Scott to convince Stiles that he indeed needed to work on all these problems.

Stiles constantly felt like he wasn’t good enough, not for the pack, not for Derek, not for his job or even good enough of a son. He constantly expected the other shoe to drop whenever he and Derek shared a happy and quiet moment together. His whole life was reigned by paranoia and anxiety.

First they started daily, weekly therapy sessions, which did not show the needed effect. Derek, Scott and Stiles father then sat the young man down and started the discussion about a hospital stay. Stiles, of course and as to expected, wasn’t on board. It took a whole lot convincing to make him see point and to agree. In the end Derek only managed to convince him as he brought the topic “kids” onto the table.

He and Stiles had started talking about kids a while ago, even before they had come back to California. But to be able to adopt a little one, both of them needed to healthy and in a good state. That finally had convinced Stiles to give the whole idea a shot.

It had been eight weeks ago since Derek had brought Stiles to the hospital.

 

>   
>  _I hope you'll be home soon. Eight fucking weeks already. I wish you would let me come and see you. Just seeing that you're okay, that you're alright would make me feel so much better._
> 
> _I love you Stiles._
> 
> _Do you remember when our places were traded? When I was the one in therapy and you wrote me letters about how much you miss me? They made my day, you know? I might have been home, laid in bed with you every night, but yet you kept writing those letters knowing how hard it’s been for me to voice my feelings and emotions. It meant the world to me that you did that._
> 
> _A silent tear slipped down Derek’s cheek which he immediately brushed away. He had to be strong now, for Stiles and their future family. Being in therapy wasn't pleasant, plus he felt lonely and helpless. Without Stiles Derek’s wolf was restless, something was missing and his need to protect his mate was higher than ever. And yet he couldn’t do anything than to support him as best as he could. This was a fight that Stiles had to struggle through all by himself._
> 
>   
>  _I believe in you, Stiles. You can do that. You can get better. For yourself, for me, for our future family._
> 
> _I know it must feel like you can't go on, that everything is just going wrong and that everything you did has been a mistake, but that's not true, my love._
> 
> _You're a good cop, you’re a fantastic emissary to the pack._
> 
> _You’re a great friend to Scott, to Lydia… to all of the others._
> 
> _You’re a fantastic son._
> 
> _And most of all you’re the best mate I could wish for. And one day, Stiles, you’re gonna be one hell of a dad for our pup._
> 
> _I know you’re scared that you won’t be able to work for the FBI anymore after this, but I’m sure you can, you’re just that good. They know you, the know what you can do. Don’t worry about what they might think, what colleagues might say. Hell, don’t even worry what other pack’s might talk about you._
> 
> _Nothing of all this matters._
> 
> _Believe me when I tell you, you're perfect._  
>  _You're perfect for me. For the pack._  
>  _I love you. I love you, my mate._
> 
> _Please come back to me soon._
> 
> _Always yours,_  
>  _Derek._
> 
> _PS: Do you remember those lines? You wrote them into one of your letters back then…_
> 
> _You’re so mean_  
>  _When you talk about yourself_  
>  _You are wrong,_  
>  _Change the voices, in your head_  
>  _Make them like you, instead_  
>  _So complicated_  
>  _Look how big you’ll make it_  
>  _Filled with so much hatred_  
>  _Such a tired game_  
>  _It’s enough_  
>  _I’ve done all U can think of_  
>  _Chased down all my demons, I see you do the same_  
>  _Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel_  
>  _Like your less than fuckin’ perfect_  
>  _Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel_  
>  _Like your nothing, you’re fuckin’ perfect… to me!_

  
*****

Three weeks later, Derek leaned against his black Camaro, parked in front of a hospital. Normally Derek wouldn’t display himself like this. He knew his appearance, doubled with that expensive and extravagant car was calling attention on himself, but he couldn’t care less.  
Today was the day Stiles got to go home.

He still had to take meds and see a therapist on a regular basis but he could home.

 

After what felt like an eternity the door swung open and Derek immediately looked up as his ears picked up that one familiar heartbeat amongst all the others.

Stiles wore a well fitting blue jeans and a simple red T-Shirt and yet he looked stunning in Derek’s eyes. His backpack hung loosely over his shoulder as he took in his lover from the distance. Derek also recognised that Stiels hair was a bit longer now. Not any longer spiked into perfection but now softly falling over his forehead and eyebrows. The young man looked exhausted but his eyes lit up as soon as he caught a glimpse of his husband waiting for him.

Slowly the werewolf walked towards his lover, almost running at the last meters. He couldn't wait to Stiles in his arms again. They met in the middle and immediately fell into a tight hug. Instantly, Derek found himself flooded by the sweet aroma that was Stiles – the sweet mixture of cotton candy, wood and something magical, purely Stiles. Oh how much he missed this scent.

Stiles held on to Derek, his face nuzzled into his lover's neck as he couldn't get close enough. Being here, in Derek’s arms again, Stiles felt happier than he had in quiet a while. That's where he belonged, no matter what.

“Fucking perfect,” Stiles whispered and pressed an soft, but lingering kiss to Derek’s neck, holding him even tighter, “Just fucking perfect.”

 

 

 

 

 

\- The End -


End file.
